


Conditioning

by stuffingstilinski



Category: Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Aged up characters, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Belly Kink, Chubby Kink, Feeding, Food Play, Kink, M/M, Masturbation, Mentions of Sex, Mild Humiliation, Overeating, Rapid weight gain, Stuffing, Weight Gain, chubby bart allen, confused tim, mostly bart being embarrassed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-23 21:50:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21327229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffingstilinski/pseuds/stuffingstilinski
Summary: He’s so used to Eduardo being around most days, Bart doesn’t see the signs that are staring him right in the face.The first time Bart pops a boner eating a whole pizza at home by himself, he doesn’t think much of it.Like sure, it’s weird, but he’s kind of weird so it’s not alarming. He figures he’s just bored and horny, (he’s always horny these days anyway). So he just finishes his food and then handles it after. It doesn’t take very long considering he’s basically leaking by the time he takes the last bite.He doesn’t correlate the two things as being even slightly related.Or, somewhere during his relationship, Bart conditions himself to associate eating and pleasure together. He doesn't really notice until it becomes a serious problem. The weight is piling on. It's getting harder to control. He just hopes his boyfriend doesn't think it's too weird.
Relationships: Bart Allen/Eduardo Dorado Jr.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 135





	Conditioning

**Author's Note:**

> First...
> 
> **THIS IS A KINK FIC!!!! DON'T LIKE DON'T READ!!!!**
> 
> I feel like it's been forever since I posted something, but I am back!
> 
> I'll be honest, this is a totally self indulgent fic. I've been wanting some young justice stuff and Bart Allen was at the top of my list. Knowing I was probably never going to get it from anywhere else, I started this myself. 
> 
> I can't promise it's any good. Just 12k of a random idea that popped into my head and I just rolled with it. 
> 
> I apologize in advance for any typos and such. This has not been beta read.

There’s a lot of great things about living with your significant other: seeing each other every day, splitting bills, learning new things about one another. If you’re Bart, it means not having to do laundry, because you kind of suck at it and Eduardo is way better at not turning clothes pink. The listen goes on and on. But the one thing he really notices, is that something about living together makes sex different.

Really it just makes it more accessible, but he swears it’s better too. He can’t explain why, but somehow it just  _ feels _ better.

Before, they were always so busy. In college they had to arrange their nights together around classes and studying, part time jobs and track, not to mention whatever other side activities they had going on. Now that they’ve graduated and moved in together, they’re around each other so much, they can sneak it in whenever they want…and Bart  _ always _ wants it. He doesn’t care what he’s doing. He’s always ready to go and they go often.

Wednesday Eduardo gives him a hand job while he’s eating leftover cheesecake and watching  _ Saved by the Bell _ reruns on the couch. That’s an experience he wants to recreate a thousand times over.

The day after that, Eduardo practically ravishes him while he was eating ice cream in bed. It melts while they’re going at it. He ends up drinking what’s left, which isn’t the sexiest look, but Eduardo has a thing against wasting food. It’s worth letting the dessert melt for mind blowing sex instead.

Saturday morning Eduardo makes a huge spread—pancakes, eggs, bacon, biscuits and gravy, fruit, cinnamon rolls. He serves Bart in bed, which then leads to sex, and then seconds on food and then sex again. Bart’s a literal mess for most of the morning, but he’s not complaining. He has all of his favorite things: his boyfriend, sex and of course, food.

Sunday is a lot milder—lazing around, eating fruit in bed and heavy petting. It’s relaxing and gives the both a much needed chance to refresh.

It’s a constant thing and Bart can’t get enough of it. Maybe its just the honeymoon stages of living together, but everything seems to lead to sex these days.

It’s so distracting, he hardly notices how it almost always starts with food.

X

“You look so adorable when you’re relaxed,” Eduardo says, his hand coming to rest around Bart’s waist before he pulls him in close.

They’re watching TV on the couch. Like always, Bart has a large, buttery bowl of popcorn in his lap. It’s his second serving. Which wouldn’t seem like a lot, if he hadn’t already devoured dinner, a bag of Chicken Whizzees, a box of Buncha Crunch, Twizzlers, and the three cans of orange soda since they decided to put a movie on.

Bart doesn’t think he looks adorable. Not when’s this bloated, and his fingers are drowning in butter and grease. He looks like someone who should really stop eating before he gets sick…but he doesn’t. There’s something compelling him to keep pushing forward, a silent goal he hasn’t reached yet. Yet he barely even knows the reason himself. He’s always had a big appetite, but lately it’s like he doesn’t know when to quit. Or well,  _ he does _ , he just  _ can’ _ t. Its like he can’t relax until he satisfies this unknown itch.

“We can pause the movie if you want?” Bart teases, more than excited about the idea of taking things to the bedroom than finishing the movie. He’s been anxious, snuggling deep into Eduardo’s side for the last thirty minutes. He knows he should be focusing, but he wants to be touched so badly. His body is practically begging for it.

He goes to put the popcorn bucket on the floor, but Eduardo stops him, coaxing it back onto his lap.

“If  _ I  _ want?” His boyfriend laughs, “Let’s finish the movie first. That way you can finish your snacks too.”

“But I’d rather do it now! Besides, we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet and I’m getting full anyway.”

“ _ You? Full? _ ” Eduardo muses as his hand wraps further around his stomach. Bart fidgets in his seat just a bit. He’s been really sensitive around his midsection lately. Whenever Eduardo touches it, it’s like all his hairs stand on edge. It’s not helping him keep his composure at all. “Finish it off. The popcorn won’t be any good later. Besides, I think the movie is just getting interesting.”

Maybe Bart would think it was interesting too, if he could actually focus on paying attention to the movie at all. It’s clear Eduardo’s not budging, so Bart looks down in his bowl to asses the damage. It’s almost halfway gone. He’ll surely be done by the time their movie ends. It’s just, he really isn’t hungry anymore. Still, the constant motion of bringing his hand to his mouth is enough to keep him occupied, despite how full he’s feeling. If Eduardo expected him to eat all of these snacks, he shouldn’t have had Bart finish off the other half of his dinner on top of his own.

Thank God for Eduardo’s hand rubbing up his side at least. It relieves the pain of overeating just a bit, but really it just manages to excite Bart more. By the time the credits are rolling, he’s aching both between his legs and in his stomach.

Eduardo must be able to tell by the way he trails his hand over the bulge in Bart’s shorts. “You really couldn’t wait, could you?”

Bart shakes his head. He doesn’t understand why he’s throbbing this much, especially when he feels too full to actually be useful in bed at this point. Somehow he’s significantly hornier now than he was even forty-five minutes ago. He’s feeling that weird itch again, only so much more intense.

Eduardo laughs to himself as stands and extends his hand. “Come on amado. I’ll make you feel better.”

Bart takes his hand, only to pull him back. He tries to hide his discomfort behind a broad grin. “Let’s just do it here.”

“On the couch? I’m sure you can hold back for a walk down the hall, can’t you?”

“It’s not that,” Bart says and he can feel his cheeks burning with the embarrassment of what he’s about to admit. “I just…my stomach hurts. I think I ate too much. I don’t really want to move yet.”

His hand runs over his stomach, bloated and gurgling with discomfort beneath his palms. He can only imagine how pathetic he looks. It’s not as if he meant to eat so much that he couldn’t stand up straight, but he’s been doing that a lot more lately. He also didn’t expect to be this hard.

Eduardo just raises a brow. If he’s skeptical, he doesn’t openly say it.

“I told you I was full,” defends Bart. He’s always been a big eater, but ever since they moved in together, he feels like he’s eating twice as much as usual. Part of it is Eduardo’s cooking, but part of it is just Bart’s sudden lack of any self control. He can’t stop most days, even when he wants to.

After another moment of assessment, Eduardo drops to his knees just in front of Bart, an exaggerated look of regret on his face. He places both hands on Bart’s stomach, as if gauging the damage for himself. As excited as he is, Bart can’t help but notice the slight curve beneath Eduardo’s fingertips. He wishes he could say it’s just from bloating, but he knows any definition he once had from running is all but gone now.

Part of him feels embarrassed but another part of him relishes in the comfort. Bart can’t help the way his body relaxes into his boyfriend’s touch. He finds himself leaning back, pushing his stomach forward just a little further to really get the full effect.

“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you amado.”

“It’s okay.” It’s not like Eduardo had made him overeat. Bart could’ve stopped. He could’ve said he really didn’t want the rest of his snacks. He just  _ didn’t.  _ It’s weird, but something about it had felt good at the time. It definitely feels worth it now with his boyfriend touching him. It’s like this is all he needed all along.

Then Eduardo looks up at him and licks his lips,  _ “ _ Since I’m already down here, why don’t I make you feel at least a little better? That way you still get something.”

Eduardo’s already tugging at Bart’s shorts before he can answer.

Not that he would say no anyway.

X

While there are a lot of great things about living with your significant other, there are also a lot of things Bart doesn’t expect. Well, there’s only one he actually notices.

The Allen Family has always been a family of athletes with next level appetites. Back when he was running, Bart was constantly eating something. It was honestly weird to find him without a snack in his hand or food in his mouth. But he isn’t running anymore, not even recreationally. He’s sitting at a desk all day, paying his dues as an entry level reporter, and then coming home and lazing around under Eduardo. He doesn’t even jog in the mornings anymore.

Bart used to think not running would drive him crazy, but it’s not the end of the world. He likes his daily routine…except for the fact that he’s heavier now than he’s ever been in his life.

Apparently relationships really do put weight on you—or him at least. Thanks to a young metabolism and numerous track practices, he’d managed to avoid the infamous freshman fifteen all through college. He isn’t fairing nearly as well anymore.

It’s only right, considering how sedentary he is these days. He keeps telling himself he’s going to pick running back up, but he can’t seem to find the time or the motivation. Even though he sees Eduardo now more than ever, it still doesn’t feel like enough. That, coupled with the fact he might be eating more these days than before, is really starting to show.

His diet’s always been excessive, but playing college sports meant it was far more nutritional. They had a meal plan and cooks. He wasn’t allowed to go too crazy. Now, he usually eats breakfast in his car—fast food or donuts or some other quick, unhealthy, meal he picks up during his morning commute. All he does at work is snack on junk from the break room while he types away at his desk. Lunch is almost always some an oversized portion of leftovers packed by Eduardo or fast food from somewhere nearby—most likely Big Belly Burger. Dinner is always some rich, calorie laden meal, also made by Eduardo—most of which Bart ends up eating by himself. Not to mention dessert, which he can’t bring himself to say no to even when he’s packed full.

Bart manages to combat the weight for a few weeks, but even the Allen Family Metabolism can’t fend this off forever. It comes on slow at first, like five pounds that he hardly notices until a routine doctor’s appointment informs him. He doesn’t think anything of it, figuring it’ll melt off naturally when he gets his shit together.

Only it doesn’t and he doesn’t get his shit together.

So the weight continues to multiply in the coming months—five pounds, then ten, twenty, then forty. He’s dumbfounded when he hits fifty but deep down he knows where it’s coming from. The evidence is literally sticking to him. Long gone is the lean runner’s body he’d been cultivating for years. It’s suddenly replaced with layers of fat in places he never thought he’d be soft.

He realizes his stomach is getting pudgier. It’s hard to miss these days. His wardrobe of baseball shirts cling to him in the most unflattering way, dimpling near his belly button and hugging love handles on his side. He’s taken to wearing the loosest things he can find as of late. Anything to keep from showing off how bad it’s really getting. He’s been rubbing excessive amounts of lotion on his middle to combat the itch of oncoming stretch marks. There’s no way he can keep squeezing into his work pants any longer, no matter how much he tries to pretend they still fit.

This new domestic lifestyle is nice, but there’s no denying it’s making him fat. Thank God Eduardo hasn’t said anything. Still, Bart assures himself he’ll get a handle on it here soon.

X

When they’re at home, Bart’s mind is usually so focused on Eduardo, he’s oblivious to damn near everything else. It’s not like he wants to focus on anything else after a long day at work anyway. Watching Eduardo do things that make him happy, makes Bart happy and he doesn’t have any deadlines coming up at work, so he’s free to come home on time and cherish actually being with his boyfriend.

He’s sitting at the kitchen table, his eyes fixed on Eduardo as he cooks. Mostly Bart’s thinking about how hot he looks in the bright red apron he’s currently sporting.  _ Aprons shouldn’t be this enticing, _ Bart thinks. They’re supposed to be for old ladies and bakery chefs. Yet, Eduardo makes it look damn near sexual—of course, he’s wearing an extra tight tank top underneath that leaves nothing to the imagination. Bart can see the outline of every muscle in his back, and unlike him, Eduardo still finds time to stay in shape.

“You want to lick the spoon?” He asks, and Bart just nods without really thinking about it. He’d say yes to anything that came out of Eduardo’s mouth when he looks like this. He barely even registers sticking the batter laden spoon in his mouth, though he does register the faint taste of milk chocolate.

Eduardo shakes his head. “Only you could make licking a spoon look so dirty.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” he shrugs, spoon still in his mouth. “I was just distracted by your apron.”

“Well now I’m definitely distracted too.”

Bart’s cheeks flush, still easily flattered by whatever comment Eduardo throws his way. “You should take it off. The shirt too.”

Eduardo laughs, despite the fact they both know he is one hundred percent serious. Bart only has so much patience and it’s starting to reach its peak.

“Is that all you ever think about amado?”

He shrugs. It feels like that’s all he thinks about lately. He doesn’t understand how Eduardo can get anything done when all that’s on his mind is dirty thoughts. Yet, Eduardo seems so level headed. He’s not as controlled by his instincts.

“How about you let me finish dinner first? Then after we eat, we can get to that. The foods almost ready and I’ve got a pie that needs to set.”

“Is it weird that I think that might be the sexiest thing you’ve ever said?” Bart muses, his eyes glued to the chocolate silk pie in his boyfriend’s hands.

Eduardo chuckles to himself again and turns back to the stove. Only Bart isn’t making a joke this time either. Something about Eduardo cooking is sexy enough, but the mention of actual food has suddenly got him more flustered than before.

His boyfriend  _ is _ a good cook. Bart knows that. Plus he’s hungry. He must just be excited for dinner.

Thirty minutes later, the table’s full and Eduardo’s pie is setting. Bart’s more than excited to eat—not because the food looks good (though it is delicious), but because he knows what comes after. 

He’s anxiously rapping his fingers against his thighs while his plate is stacked high with a hefty serving of shepherds pie. The moment the food touches down, he’s digging in, unable to hold back. The meat is seasoned well and the mashed potatoes are light and fluffy. It’s as if he can’t get enough. He didn’t realize he was this hungry, but maybe all that time staring at Eduardo muffled his senses. He swallows everything down with vigor, eager to move on, but Eduardo seems to be taking his sweet time. The sound of Bart scraping his page echoes throughout the room, while Eduardo isn’t even half done yet.

“Do you want more?” His boyfriend asks, before waving it off just as quickly. “That’s a dumb question. Of course you do.”

Bart supposes he is still hungry. What else is there to do while he waits?

Eduardo slides another serving in front of him, just as large as the last one. He inhales it just as fast and now he’s starting to feel the repercussions. His stomach’s tightening and his eyes are lowering with that familiar tired feeling. Eduardo doesn’t even ask before filling his plate a third time. Bart mindlessly shovels it into his mouth without really thinking about it.

And that’s when it happens again, just like movie night.

He finds himself getting hard under the table out of nowhere. Bart clenches his thighs and prays Eduardo doesn’t notice anything strange. It’s not like they’re doing anything physical or flirting any more than usual. He doesn’t get why he’s hard now. It never happens when he’s staring at Eduardo cook, only when they’re actually eating. Usually he’s just turned on, enough to contain himself and make it through dinner, but the more he eats, the worse it gets. Tonight he’s not sure he can even stand up like this.

“You alright?” Eduardo asks.

Bart nods, forcing himself to try and come off as normal as possible. “Y-yeah, the food…its just… _ so good.” _

“Oh yeah? Have some more. You don’t have to be shy now that we’re living together.”

As if Eduardo would let him. He didn’t gain all this weight being shy.

In the end, Bart ends up with four and a half plates before dinner’s over. His breathing is erratic as he lays his head against the table. He’s trying to cradle his stomach for some relief, but touching it only seems to add to his problem below the waist. He doesn’t understand what’s going on, but this feels like some sort of sick torture.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Eduardo asks again, coming up from behind him. His hands come to rest around Bart’s waist before he can warn him not to. “Eyes bigger than your stomach again?”

It’s hard for Bart to respond when he’s biting down on his bottom lip so hard it might start bleeding any moment. He’s not proud of how much he ate, or the way his belly is flopping over the waist of his pants. It probably looks even bigger with the way he’s leaning forward, forcing it to press out even farther. It feels soft and plushy under his boyfriend’s prying hands. He’s still not sure if that’s a good thing, but it’s too late to turn back now.

He’s honestly surprised Eduardo hasn’t said anything yet, or made a comment about how big he’s getting. Surely he can feel how thick his stomach is. From the position, Bart can feel it rolling over itself, spilling out over the sides of his sweats. It’s not something he can hide anymore. Sure, a hoodie might make it  _ less  _ obvious, but the roundness of his cheeks and chin still give it away.

Somehow Eduardo hardly seems fazed as his hand trails around his waist, stopping just over his belly button. “We still have dessert, you know?”

Dessert should be the farthest thing from Bart’s mind, yet something about the idea of trying to eat even more is suddenly so enticing. Eduardo’s baking is just as good as his cooking. But Bart has the hard on he needs to address.

“ _ Right now? _ ” He asks, not wanting to admit what’s going on in his pants. His voice cracks just a little on the back end and it makes him sound nervous.

“It should be set. But we can wait a bit if you want.”

“Yeah? Maybe we could go to the room first? And then have pie after. Like when we have breakfast in bed.”

“Oh, like you want me to feed it to you?”

“Y-yeah. Whatever you want.” Bart doesn’t care. He just doesn’t want to talk anymore, about eating especially. He’s barely holding back as it is.

He chalks up his insatiable horniness to Eduardo looking really fit in that extra tight top, and the way Eduardo’s hand grazes his extra sensitive stomach as he pulls Bart up from his chair…

And that’s all it takes.

Bart doesn’t make it to the bedroom. He doesn’t even make it out of the kitchen. The moment he stands, his stomach flops down, his knees buckle and he’s clutching Eduardo’s shirt for dear life as he loses the little bit of control he thought he had below his waist. Suddenly his sweats are wet and sticky against his leg and he can’t believe what he’s done. This might just be the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to him since he lost his virginity.

Bart doesn’t even lift his head to look at his boyfriend’s reaction. Instead he buries it deeper into Eduardo’s chest, too ashamed to face the consequences.

He feels a hand rubbing through his hair as if trying to console him, but at the same time he can feel the movements of his boyfriend’s chest heaving up and down as he tries to suppress his laughter. 

“Bart,  _ you didn’t?” _

“It’s not funny,” He pouts, muffled by Eduardo’s shirt.

“It’s a little funny.”

“If you weren’t looking all good, wearing that stupid tank top and being all domestic, I would’ve been fine. I was trying to control myself.”

“Mhmm…blame it on the shirt and not the fact that you have the willpower of a thirteen year old boy who just discovered porn for the first time.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just…it’s really kind of funny.”

Bart wants to see the humor in it, but he’s having a hard time getting past the fact that he just blew a load in his sweats without any coaxing. What is wrong with him? He didn’t even pull a stunt like this during movie night.

He grips tight at Eduardo’s shirt, pulling his face as close to his chest as possible, “I hate you. You did this to me. You turned me into a horny teenager all over again. I can’t be around you for five minutes without getting turned on.”

“You say that like I mind?” Eduardo grins, finally luring Bart’s face away from his chest. He leans in, kissing him despite Bart turning his face in shame. “How about you go clean up? We can have some pie and then try again before bed?”

“Fine,” pouts Bart, even though he’s really looking forward to it.

He finds himself shoveling pie in his mouth to combat the shame he’s feeling. Somewhere during his third piece, Eduardo goes down on him. Bart barely lasts twenty seconds.

X

He’s so used to Eduardo being around most days, Bart doesn’t see the signs that are staring him right in the face.

The first time Bart pops a boner eating a whole pizza at home by himself, he doesn’t think much of it.

Like sure, it’s  _ weird, _ but he’s kind of weird so it’s not alarming. He figures he’s just bored and horny, (he’s always horny these days anyway). So he just finishes his food and then handles it after. It doesn’t take very long considering he’s basically leaking by the time he takes the last bite.

He doesn’t correlate the two things as being even slightly related.

The next time it happens, it’s during a box of fresh glazed donuts. He’s driving home, holding his thighs together, face flushed as he munches on his fifth donut. He just wants to make it home before he loses it in his pants (again). How the fuck would he explain that to Eduardo (again)?

He doesn’t even notice the coincidence.

A few weeks after that, he’s on his lunch break, sitting in a big belly burger minding his own business. It’s been a long day and he’s feeling especially hungry, so he orders a little more than usual…or twice his normal order. He’s halfway through two double cheeseburgers—extra cheese, extra bacon, extra mayo and extra ketchup, a large size fries with cheese, an order of onion rings and a large, triple thick vanilla milkshake to wash it all down, when it happens.

He starts getting hot and bothered, in public, at a fast food joint.

He doesn’t understand what’s going on. Eduardo’s not around. He’s totally alone, stuffed in a tiny booth, shoveling food into his face. He doesn’t feel remotely attractive. If anything he regrets not getting a salad (he tells himself he’s going to eat healthier everyday but the scale just keeps climbing and climbing).

He’s so confused, he stops eating and throws his food away before things get any worse. It’s like every time he starts getting too full, he’s suddenly ready to go. It’s one thing when he’s alone or at home, but now he can’t eat out anymore either?

For the first time, Bart thinks there might be a problem. Maybe there’s something wrong with him?

If there is, he knows one person who can surely help.

X

“I can’t eat,” Bart says as he drapes himself over Tim’s couch and places his hand on his forehead. It’s dramatic as hell, but this is a serious matter. A little theatrics is warranted in this situation.

“ _ You? _ You can’t eat?”

Bart doesn’t miss the way Tim’s eyes trail over his body in that long, calculating way. He knows it’s a pretty far fetched statement coming from the one friend who was almost always eating growing up. Plus, he’s probably gained at least sixty five pounds at this point. The evidence that he’s been eating more than enough is plastered all over, particularly his constantly ballooning waist.

“Alright,” Tim shrugs, “I’ll bite. What’s going on?”

“Promise not to tell anyone? Or laugh either.”

“Obviously.”

He knows he can trust Tim, more than anyone honestly. Still it feels weird admitting his problem out loud. He still can’t wrap his head around it himself honestly. “I can’t eat without…without um…getting aroused.”

Tim blinks hard and wide, unsure of what he just heard. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I can’t eat without you know…” Bart vaguely gestures towards his pants, too embarrassed to repeat himself.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes I’m serious! Would I joke about something as serious as eating!” This is honestly torture to him. How is he supposed to eat out if he can’t stop getting turned on? He’ll have to become a hermit or something similar soon.

For a moment Tim still seems skeptical, but finally, his face relaxes. “That’s fair.”

“I don’t know what’s going on. It’s been happening at home for a while, but I didn’t really think anything of it because I was at home with Eduardo. I thought it was because of him. Then it started happening when Eduardo wasn’t there, but I still didn’t think much of it. Then I was at Big Belly Burger the other day and it just  _ happened _ .”

Tim stands there, arms crossed over his chest for what feels like an eternity. He appreciates that Tim isn’t laughing, but instead seems to actually be considering his issue. The wheels already seem to be turning in his head. “Have you been doing anything different?”

“No? I mean…I’m eating  _ more _ , but that’s not anything different.”

“That’s odd, especially if it’s a recent thing,” he says, rubbing at his chin.

Bart feels like he’s on the edge of his seat waiting for Tim to come up with a logical answer that will solve all of his problems.

Finally Tim speaks, “It could be a fetish.”

“A fetish?” Bart doesn’t know a lot about those. He’s never really ventured into anything too crazy before, just some toys and role playing with Eduardo. “ _ Now?  _ Isn’t a little late for me to develop one of those?”

“Not necessarily. You wouldn’t know until you were exposed to it.”

“I’ve been eating my whole life. I think if I was turned on by it, I would know by now.” 

“You’ve got a point,” concedes Tim, before his inquisitive face morphs into a confused frown. This isn’t a look he sports often. It worries Bart. “I don’t know. It might be easier if I observed it happening in person.”

“Tim, I have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah, no shit. I’m not trying to hit on you. You asked for my help. I’m not trying to see your,  _ you know.  _ I would just need to observe a situation where it happens.”

“I don’t think I could just  _ make _ it happen though. Especially not when I know you’re researching me.”

“Yeah. That would be kind of awkward. And it wouldn’t be organic.”

Plus, Bart just isn’t willing to try and purposely pop a boner in front of his best friend. He’s always been a bit of a free spirit, but even he has boundaries.

If Tim can’t help, he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t exactly afford to quit his job and stay home all day just because he’s a pervert. Eventually Eduardo will start to notice something too.

“Just forget I asked and please don’t tell the other guys. I’m ashamed enough as it is.”

Tim nods.“Of course not. Wish I could’ve been more help.”

x 

For the next few weeks, Bart decides to do all of his eating at home, where he’s safe from the prying eyes of others.

He’s more mortified than he’s ever been in his entire life, and the shame of it all only has him stress eating more. Except, he’s almost too self conscious to eat in front of Eduardo now. So he does all his real eating when his boyfriend isn’t around. He wishes it was as simple as just not eating so much, but not only is his self control shit, that itch ( _ which he now realizes is basically just sexual desire _ ) is always there, trying to force him to eat and eat until he’s bloated and jerking one out in his bathroom. The best he can do to combat Eduardo noticing, is to pig out at breakfast and lunch so much, that he’s full well into the evening. That means he’s eating less at dinner, which is suspicious, but it keeps him from getting horny at the table. He feels awful hiding things like this, but he’s honestly so embarrassed he doesn’t know what else to do. What if Eduardo can’t handle it?

As far as Bart knows, Eduardo’s already putting up with how much he’s let himself go. Asking him to deal with this would just be asking too much. It’s not like he’s making an effort to lose weight. He’s honestly just making it worse. Bart doesn’t want to admit just how many times he’s gotten himself off during his lunch break, one hand bringing food to his mouth while the other is in his pants. Like who gets turned on by something so normal? This is the kind of thing that would only happen to him. Of all the fetishes, he had to get the one that he can’t possibly avoid and the one that makes him fat.

The weight is definitely more than noticeable. It has been for a while. Bart was never crazy buff growing up. He’s always been fairly lean from all the running, so it’s not hard to tell that he’s put on weight. Besides, he’s got to be sixty five, maybe seventy pounds, heavier than when he moved in. It’s not exactly hard to miss. One day he was so thin his ribs were visible. Now his stomach bulges into his lap even when he isn’t full. He’s had to size up his work pants twice already, and he’s on the verge of needing to do it again. The zipper is barely holding these days and the seams are practically begging for mercy between his plump thighs.

Though all things considered, he doesn’t really mind the weight. It’s unexpected and it’s inconvenient at times, but it’s not the worst thing going on at the moment. Beiges, Eduardo hasn’t complained yet, so Bart hasn’t really tried to do anything about it. He’s sure it’ll get to a point here soon where it’s too much and his boyfriend will say something. Then he’ll have to lose weight. As much as he wants to tell himself he’ll take up running again, he knows running at this weight would be awful. His stamina isn’t what it was even a year ago. He gets winded walking up two flights of stairs to his apartment. He doesn’t want to think about the chaffing between his thighs or what it would feel like trying to jog with his stomach and chest bouncing between every step. It doesn’t sound fun at all.

So he just ignores it for now. It would be nice if he could just eat and rub his belly without getting completely flustered is all. It’s not really an issue when he hasn’t eaten yet, but after a meal, the pudge around his waist seems extra sensitive to even the slightest touch. How the hell is supposed to go on like this?

X

They haven’t gone out in a while. For the last few weeks, Bart’s found a various number of excuses not to leave the house—not feeling well, sleepy, chores to finish. None of them are true, but he’s afraid to leave the house for fear of his little problem popping up. He’s yet to address it with Eduardo, or at all really. He’s just been trying to stay home and avoid embarrassing himself any further.

But he can tell Eduardo is getting stir crazy. So when their friends invite them to go out drinking, Bart knows he can’t avoid it anymore. They want to go to a casual bar downtown. It sounds safe enough. He doesn’t seem to have a self control problem when he’s drinking, so he thinks he shouldn’t have anything to worry about.

“We don’t have to stay long,” Eduardo says from the bed as Bart fiddles with his pants button.

His jeans are tighter than they should be, given he only bought them a few weeks ago. Lately he’s been outgrowing clothes faster than he can restock them. As if he doesn’t have enough to worry about, his ever increasing weight isn’t making things any easier.

He sucks his stomach in to get them to button, but it doesn’t really make much difference. They clasp, but barely manage to hold together.

“We can stay as long as you want,” he says, still trying to adjust his jeans. He doesn’t notice Eduardo coming up behind him until his hands are around his belly.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t look like your pants will hold for a whole night.”

Bart’s body goes rigid. It’s painfully obvious he’s gained a lot of weight, but they have yet to address it. Eduardo hasn’t turned his nose up at him yet or told him he’s getting fat. Bart wouldn’t blame him if he did. Something tells him his very hot, very fit boyfriend didn’t sign up for his partner gaining over seventy pounds.

Bart laughs awkwardly, his face burning hot. “Y-yeah, I should probably go shopping for some new clothes… _ again.” _

“We can go this week.”

Bart considers that a good sign until he feels Eduardo’s thumb trying to squeeze its way under the hem of his pants to gauge how tight they really are. It’s a hard feat, with barely any give at all. “But in the meantime, do you want to change into something looser?”

“Looser like what? I’m not wearing sweat pants to the bar.” He’s not stooping that damn low.

“I just want you to be comfortable. I know you really don’t want to go.”

“I don’t mind going out.”

“Amado, it’s okay. I know somethings been off lately.”

Bart isn’t aware he’s been coming off different. It’s just so weird knowing that at any time he could humiliate both of them with his issue. He quickly turns to face Eduardo and pulls him in close by his hips. He doesn’t miss the way his boyfriends tight body is pushing into his stomach. Its such a stark contrast that draws that much more attention to how out of shape he is . It’s even more noticeable now than when they’re sleeping together…which they haven’t done as much lately.

“What? Nothing’s wrong babe, I promise.”

Eduardo’s face twists. He doesn’t believe Bart for a second. “Amado…don’t lie to me. You’ve been, what’s that word you like?  _ Moded _ , for weeks. You don’t want to go out. You get stiff when I touch you. When I make dinner you barely eat. You don’t want to have sex and that used to be all you thought about.”

_ Fuck _ , he thinks. He should’ve been more subtle but that’s never been his strong suit.

“I ugh…I swear that has nothing to do with you or us. I just…I um,” he’s not ready to admit that he can’t control his dick around food. So he improvises. “I’ve been a little self conscious I guess, about the weight.”

Eduardo’s eyes go wide. “You have? I didn’t realize. I assumed you were okay with it.”

“I mean I don’t know how to feel really…I just know I felt bad because you’re still in such great shape and I’m sort of  _ not.”  _

_ “ _ You know I don’t care about that. I love you and I think you look amazing no matter what.”

That’s a relief, considering it’s a hefty amount of weight. “Thanks babe.”

“Of course,” he says, his hand brushing up against Bart’s lower belly without hesitation. “Now, if you’re sure you want to go, we should probably get going.”

“Yeah I’m sure.”

He’s sure everything at the bar will be fine. They can enjoy themselves tonight and then tomorrow he can figure out how to get a real handle on his problem before it ruins his love life.

X

It’s a good time so far. Jaime, Traci, Tim, Virgil and Gar are all out. They’re taking shots, catching up. Virgil’s seems to be doing well chatting up girls at the bar. Gar might be a little too drunk for his own good. It’s exactly how it always is and Bart’s actually enjoying himself, even despite how tight his pants are.

God, he’s uncomfortable. Like he knew gaining weight wasn’t supposed to be  _ comfortable _ , but does it have to hurt this bad if he wears his pants on his waist like he’s supposed to? He supposes he could push them down a little, like under his belly, but he doesn’t want to put it out there like that. Plus, he starts feeling sensitive when he gets touched around the middle. He doesn’t need that right now either.

He’d like to keep his issue a secret for as long as possible.

The problem is drinking makes him hungry, and eating makes him horny. It’s getting harder to avoid the growls in his stomach as Gar keeps buying rounds of shots and shoving them down their throats.

“Don’t be a lightweight,” he says, which is ironic considering Bart’s probably the heaviest guy here these days.

He’s damn sure not one to turn down a friendly competition though. So he takes another shot and chugs another beer. He’s far beyond buzzed, well into a manageable drunk at this point. Still he doesn’t think that can withstand another round with Gar, especially when he hasn’t eaten. He leans into the high top table just as Eduardo comes up behind his seat.

“Forget how to pace yourself since the last time we went out?” Eduardo laughs, resting his chin on Bart’s shoulder. He’s happy his stomach is shielded by the table top, because the first thing his boyfriend does is rest his palm against it. It growls at Eduardo’s touch, betraying him on queue. 

“No.”

“You’re drinking like a teenager with a curfew and on an empty stomach too? When was the last time you ate?”

He thinks back to before he was getting dressed. He’d been on the couch, enjoying a carton of leftover Lo Mein Eduardo hadn’t finished the other night. It wasn’t a lot but it was better than nothing.

“I just ate before we left. I shouldn’t be  _ that _ hungry.”

“Well you are. Plus you’re drunk, so you should eat anyway, before you throw up somewhere.”

Bart can’t lie and say he’s not hungry, not when Eduardo can literally feel his stomach growling. It’s just, his hair is already on edge from his boyfriends touch. If they add food into the equation, he’s a goner. It’s the very thing he’s trying to avoid.

“We can just eat on the way home later,” he tries.

“Are you turning down food?” laughs Eduardo, “I thought you liked the food here?”

“I do…”

Eduardo leans into his ear, trying to be as discreet as possible, “Is this about the pants thing from earlier?”

“No!”

“Are you sure? If you’re uncomfortable, it’s okay. I told you we could leave whenever and I meant it. I don’t want you to feel uneasy. 

As accommodating as Eduardo is trying to be for him, Bart just feels like a dick. His goal hadn’t been to ruin his boyfriend’s good time worrying about him. They’re out, for the first time in a while. He can suck up his insecurities for a little bit longer.

“It’s fine really. I just…you know what, actually I think I want pretzels with cheese,” he says, mostly to appease his concerned boyfriend. It works, judging by the relieve smile that edges its way onto Eduardo’s lips.

“Is that all?”

“Maybe some wings I guess? We can split ‘em if you want?”

“I’m fine. They’re all yours. I’m gonna get a burger. I haven’t had one from here in forever.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll bring you another beer on my way back too.”

With that, Eduardo leaves with a kiss and Bart’s pleased now, but he’ll regret not going home when he had the chance.

X

As much as Tim is trying not to be too obvious, he can’t help but peak over at Bart and Eduardo every few minutes. He wants to help Bart with his dilemma, but this is a little out of his area of expertise. He’s not a sex therapist. He’s sort of shooting in the dark here.

So far he doesn’t see anything that stands out. They’re in their own little world for a moment, with Eduardo standing beside Bart. He kisses his cheek, making Bart blush bright red. They look like two teenagers in love. It’s cute, Tim thinks. Still he can’t also help but notice how nervous Bart looks.

There’s food in front of him, but he has yet to touch it. It makes sense. If he was having the same problem as Bart, he might be a little leery himself.

“You haven’t touched your food. Is something wrong with it?” Eduardo asks.

Bart shakes his head and immediately shoves a pretzel in his mouth as a gesture of good faith. He grins wide and Eduardo smiles back, pleased.

_ He’s definitely rewarding Bart with positive affirmation for eating,  _ Tim notes to himself.

For a few minutes they continue like that, both of them putting food on their stomach probably to combat how much they’ve all had to drink. Eduardo definitely seems more into keeping tabs on Bart than he does his own food. Tim makes a note of that too.

Just as Bart finishes up the last of his meal, Eduardo pushes his barely eaten burger and fries towards him.

“Here, I’m not going to finish this,” he says.

Tim doesn’t miss the way Bart suddenly stiffens, swallowing hard. Eduardo repositions himself behind Bart and Tim tries to be subtle as he watches the way Eduardo’s hand casually travels down his boyfriend’s sides, coming to rest at his distended stomach.

Bart stares at the extra meal in front of him with a nervous grimace. “Are you sure? You didn’t eat a lot.”

“Yeah I’m sure. I wasn’t that hungry I guess. Unless you don’t want it?”

There’s obvious conflict in Bart’s eyes. He glances around, taking note of where everyone is and what they’re doing. Tim tries to play off his curiosity by taking a sip of his watery drink. It seems to fool Bart.

He sighs, “I think we both know if you leave it here, I’m gonna eat it anyway.”

Eduardo nods, a slight smile at his lips. For a second he still seems conflicted, then Bart bites his lip and readjusts in his chair, fiddling with his jeans. Tim definitely noticed they seemed a little snug earlier. They’re probably even worse now, which surely isn’t helping Bart’s cause. Yet, when Eduardo leans in to kiss him, Bart shoulders instantly drop and relax. He doesn’t look half as tense as he did a second ago. He seems even better when Eduardo’s slides his hand down to rest on Bart’s thigh as he takes his first bite.

“Stop,” Bart laughs, pushing his hand back up. “I won’t be able to say no if you do  _ that.” _

Eduardo, cocks his head, but places his hand back on Bart stomach. “You’re usually excited about that. When we get home then?”

“I thought you wanted to stay.”

“I do?”

“Well, then stop tempting me before I have to call an Uber.”

Eduardo shrugs, kissing Bart once more. Tim wonders if he and Cassie are this outwardly affectionate.

“ _ You know I’ll do whatever you want to do,”  _ Eduardo tells him. Bart squirms in his seat, crossing his legs together with a half smile.

Suddenly it clicks to Tim.

He wonders how he didn’t notice it before.

X

“He’s conditioned you.”

“What?” Bart asks, looking up from Tim’s couch, “What does that mean? Is that bad?”

“I don’t know. If you haven’t said anything to him, and he hasn’t said anything to you, I doubt either of you even realizes what he did.”

“And what did he do?”

“Well it looks like your body associates eating, well  _ overeating _ , with sexual pleasure and arousal.”

It makes sense, Bart thinks. He can’t count the number of times they’ve had sex after after he’s eaten, or while he’s eating. “Fuck. What should I do?”

“Talk to him about it?”

How the hell do you just bring that up? It sounds humiliating. Hell, it’s hard to talk about now. Plus, Bart can’t really put the blame on Eduardo. Not when he was the one practically forcing sex on him most of the time.

“But it’s kind of my fault actually…I’m always sort of begging for it after I eat, or always, but especially after dinner or breakfast, or whenever I’ve eaten really. It wasn’t like he was rewarding me. I was rewarding me and he was just doing what I asked. I think I conditioned myself.”

Tim cocks his head and Bart knows he must sound ridiculous. “Wait, every time you ate, you asked for sex?”

“Yeah… _ pretty much.” _

“Hmm,” Tim says, with an expression of surprise and confusion. It does nothing to put Bart at ease.

“Oh my God, what am I gonna do? I can tell by your face this is weird. If you think it’s weird, he’s gonna think it’s weird and he’s obviously going to leave me. Or at least,  _ he should!” _

“Maybe it’s not a bad thing? Like maybe this could be  _ your _ thing?”

Bart drops back into the couch, running his hands through his hair. He fights the urge to tug at it in frustration. “That sounds so weird. How do I tell my boyfriend that I’m turned on by eating? How does anyone get turned on by eating? Like am I never gonna be able to eat normal ever again?”

Tim’s eyes narrow in that way they do when he’s really thinking and Bart appreciates how much he cares. He’s really trying his best to help with his weird ass problem. “I’m sure there are a few other triggers, like you seem to be turned on specifically when you’re overeating.” 

“Well that’s fucking embarrassing…and probably something I should stop doing considering…,” Bart stares down at his stomach, gesturing towards the lump that’s currently bulging against his shirt.

“Has Eduardo said anything about it?”

“The weight or the fact that I’m always horny after we eat?”

“Either.”

“I mean  _ yes and no.  _ He’s seems okay with the weight for now, but he hasn’t said anything about the other stuff.

“Maybe you should it up to him and see what he says?”

Bart sighs, throwing his head back into the couch. He shouldn’t have to ask him because he shouldn’t have this problem..

“Eduardo’s pretty understanding,” Tim assures. “I doubt he’ll break up with you or anything.”

“Yeah, but he probably  _ should.  _ It’s embarrassing enough knowing you’ve gained over eighty pounds, but knowing it’s probably gonna go up before it goes down because every time you eat, your body wants to get off? That’s even worse.”

“Eighty?” Tim repeats, giving him a good look up and down. Bart doesn’t even bother to try and hide it. It’s impossible anyway. Sucking in is useless when you’ve gained so much that your stomach flab doesn’t go anywhere.

“Yes. Eighty,” he deadpans, his hands coming to rest across his gut. It only makes it look that much bigger. “Don’t look so surprised. I’m sure you could tell.”

“I was thinking like forty or fifty.”

“Well I’m flattered, but maybe you should brush up on your detective skills.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“You’re a therapist now?”

Tim sighs, switching back to topic, “Just tell him. It won’t be as bad as you think. Plus if you stopped, you know, sleeping together after you ate, your body would probably readjust eventually too. Think about other things when you eat so you don’t get turned on.”

Bart can only imagine how long that would take. He wants to protest, but Tim clearly isn’t having it. “Fine. Fine. I’ll tell him…but if he kicks me out for being a fat perv, you have to let me sleep on your couch.”

Tim smirks, “So you can eat all  _ my _ food?”

“I promise I won’t leave any questionable stains on your couch,” he jokes. “And thanks, you know for trying to help and not telling anyone.”

“Of course. I hope it works out.”

Bart does too.

X

“So your aunt gave me a recipe for some really obnoxious Midwest brownies. Said it was one of your favorites,” Eduardo says as Bart saunters into the kitchen.

“Oh yeah?” His mind is still heavy on his conversation with Tim, but he can’t help but notice how good it smells. Plus, Eduardo’s got on that damned apron again, this time with a dry fit t-shirt clinging to his abs. He can’t talk to him like this.

“Yeah. Seems like a lot…peanut butter, a brownie and chocolate? And M&M’s? It’s excessive, but I guess you’ll eat anything,” he teases. Bart hates how easily he starts to squirm.

“Yeah, they’re probably not very good for you, but they taste good.”

“Hopefully mine are as good as Iris’ then. She said you could eat a whole pan in one sitting.”

Bart can just hear the implication behind that. Like if he doesn’t eat a whole pan of Eduardo’s, his boyfriend’s feelings will surely be hurt. At least that’s how he decides to interpret it.

He knows they’re supposed to be talking. He’s supposed to bring up this whole conditioning thing…but now he’s sitting here, with the strong aroma of chocolate filling the kitchen, as the first pan of overly indulgent brownies cools and he can’t focus. No matter how hard he tries to will himself to think straight, the idea of eating the whole pan to please his boyfriend is too enticing to ignore. He wants to eat them all, and he’s imaging him doing it with Eduardo feeding him in bed, or touching him as he does. God, he really  _ is _ a pervert.

“You look excited,” Eduardo muses as he pours a glass of milk. He knows Bart’s habits too well.

“Who wouldn’t be? My favorite snack and my favorite chef.”

“I thought you might enjoy it. I’ve been wanting to do something nice. You’ve seemed so stressed lately.”

Yeah he’s been stressed, but probably not for the reasons his boyfriend thinks. Hell, the more Eduardo talks about food, the more on edge he gets. He’s trying to sit in a way that maybe slows down his arousal but rubbing his thighs together is only turning him on more.

“Let’s go to the couch,” Eduardo suggests. Bart offers an awkward smile and tries to move as normal as possible into the next room.

Eduardo brings the entire first pan with him as the second one cools now. Bart’s curls into the couch, legs drawn in, trying to be as discreet, yet normal, as possible. It’s hard when even just smelling food is doing things to him now.

Eduardo kissing him on the cheek damn near sends him over the edge already. You would think he’s never been touched before. He has to fight with his body to keep relaxed. Tim suggested thinking about something other than sex or how hot Eduardo is when he ate. He tries thoughts of anything else—old people, Brussel sprouts which he fucking hates…except for that one time Eduardo deep fried them with bacon grease and covered them in cheese. He loves cheese—

And just like that he’s back on food. Damn it he’s easy!

It doesn’t help that Eduardo’s right there, watching his every move to see if he likes his baking.

“Well?” Eduardo’s usually far more relaxed than Bart about most things, but he’s always loved seeing Bart’s reactions to things like gifts and food. The anticipation is evident on his face.

Bart’s shoving half a brownie into his mouth, but still manages to look over and nod. “ _ It’s amazing.” _

“As good as as Iris?”

He wishes it wasn’t as good so he could stop eating them, but he finds himself nodding, mouth full of food. The brownies are rich and warm, oozing peanut butter and fudge onto his fingers as he tries to eat. They shouldn’t be this good, but Bart can’t stop eating them. He can only imagine how many calories are in one, let alone a whole pan. As if he needs to gain anymore weight. He’s already wide and round enough as it is.

“Aren’t you going to eat any?” He asks.

Eduardo glances over the pan and Bart can tell he’s not all that interested. Half the junk he cooks, he does so only because Bart likes it.

“At least taste it,” Says Bart, holding out a brownie. Eduardo leans forward, taking one small bite.

His face distorts into something resembling a very careful thought just before he swallows. “It’s sweet.”

“That’s the best part.”

His boyfriend grins, shifting his body towards Bart and placing a hand on his plump side. Bart hates that he’s gotten big enough for there to be a roll there, but Eduardo doesn’t look fazed. He just cares that Bart like his food. “Well I’m glad you enjoy them because I made them for you anyway.”

Bart thinks it’s fitting, that of all the things Eduardo could think of to cheer him up with, food is the first thing that comes to mind. He feels like a pig, sitting on the couch shoving brownies in his face while his boyfriend rubs his gut. It’s gluttony at its finest and it’s no wonder he’s gotten so big since moving in. He can’t help but notice how much more space he takes up on the couch now.

“Thanks for this,” he says, swallowing down his next bite. “You didn’t have to do anything for me.”

“I wanted to,” Eduardo offers, but then his voice drops just enough for Bart to notice. “I thought it might help you relax.”

Bart’s halfway into his next brownie when he glances over. He doesn’t realize just how concerned Eduardo really was until he sees his face. He looks tired himself. His eyes seem low, like he’s been worrying quite a bit about this. Bart can’t believe how much his sudden change has been bothering his boyfriend. Tim is right, maybe he should say something?

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” frowns Bart.

“I know, but subtlety isn’t your strong suit. When something’s off, it’s usually pretty obvious,” he sighs, “and you haven’t said anything, not even when I asked the other night before we went out. I just wasn’t sure how to help.” 

Fuck, thinks Bart. How could he be so dense? He places his latest brownie down and turns to Eduardo. It’s now or never. “I guess I do have something that’s had me a little moded lately…something we should talk about.”

“Oh?” His boyfriend straightens up with curiosity.

“I have something to admit,” and Bart can tell by the way Eduardo’s brow shoots up that this sounds crazy suspicious. He suddenly wishes he hadn’t eaten so many brownie before making this confession. His stomach is already sore and bloating, but not enough to excite him at least. So there’s that.

“Okay…”

He finds himself fidgeting with his shirt, which causes it to curl up a bit and expose the bottom pudge of his belly. So then he’s struggling to pull his shirt back down. He’s fidgety and nervous and he doesn’t know how to say this. 

Suddenly he feels Eduardo’s hands on top of his own. “It’s okay, just say it.”

“It’s embarrassing…like really really embarrassing.”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad you think amado.”

“Fine,” Bart says, still drawing out the process. “I’ve been having this problem where I… _ I get turned on when I’m eating.  _ But not like all the time! Just like when I’m eating too much, which is kind of like all the time, I guess. I know, I know. It’s weird, but I just know I get really full and then I get really horny and somehow the two are related!”

It’s quiet after he rants, the only sound is that of Bart trying to catch his breath. Eduardo stares back at him, his face completely blank. Bart’s not even sure if he believes him. He’s praying he didn’t make a mistake by opening his mouth.

When Eduardo finally speaks, Bart’s let’s out a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding.

“You know, that kind of makes sense honestly. You always wanted to have sex after you ate…or  _ while _ you ate. I thought it was different but of course I wouldn’t say no to you. I didn’t mind it.

Bart was expecting disgust. He was expecting to be shamed for being weird. He wasn’t expecting such a calm, understanding reaction. It’s not like Eduardo’s anything but understanding. Bart was just projecting his feelings onto his boyfriend he supposed.

“Holy shit, that’s a relief. I figured you were going to think I was sick and leave me something.”

“Of course not! I just figured it was one of your many,  _ many _ quirks.”

“I don’t know if it’s a quirk. Tim called it conditioning…like I trained my body to react this way after doing it so much. I overeat and it just expects I’m going to have sex after, so it like prepares itself in advance I guess.”

“I remember something similar in psych class,” starts Eduardo before his demeanor completely shifts. He cocks his head with a look of utter confusion on his face, “Wait.  _ You told Tim? _ ”

“Yeah. I didn’t know what to do. I thought he might…are you mad I told him first?”

He’s surprised when his boyfriend begins to snicker into his hand. It’s not the reaction Bart was expecting, but Eduardo seems to be taking all of this better than he thought.

“Pfft, no. I just wish I could’ve seen his face when you told him  _ that. _ ”

“Yeah well I needed advice and I didn’t want to freak you out.”

“You could never amado. I’m sure it’s something we can work out. I thought you were going to tell me you were having an affair.”

Bart’s eyes go wide and he quickly takes Eduardo’s hands into his own.

“What? No! I’m always at work or here watching you cook. When would I have time?” He questions, before taking his hands and placing them under his belly. He lifts just a bit and drops it down. His stomach ripples, emphasizing just how heavy he is in case Eduardo forgot. “Plus…well…I’m not in any shape to have an affair.”

Eduardo leans forward, gripping a handful of flab just under his belly button. He gives it a slight squeeze. “So you’d have one if you were in better shape?”

“N-no?” Bart replies, his body tingling under Eduardo’s touch.

“You don’t sound very certain,” Eduardo accuses, before shrugging and reaching for a brownie. “I guess we’ll just have to keep you soft then.”

“You make it sound so kinky,” Bart starts, just as Eduardo brings the brownie to his mouth. He takes the bait, biting off a corner. “This is definitely not helping the problem…which we haven’t talked about how we’re going to fix by the way..”

“What’s there to fix? So you have a sort of kink or fetish now. I think it’s okay.”

“I can’t go to work like this.”

“It’s just when you eat too much right? So you could…if you just ate less at work.”

“What about everywhere else? Like out with our friends or if we go on a date? I don’t have that kind of self control.”

Internally Bart is panicking. It was hard enough trying to figure out how to eat so Eduardo wouldn’t get suspicious. He can’t keep switching up his patterns like this.

“Why don’t we try and start by keeping the overeating confined to our apartment for a while. We’ll work on things slowly from there. Can you do that?”

Bart frowns, thinking about all the food he used to eat during the day. He’s going to miss it. “I guess.”

It’s as if Eduardo can tell exactly what he’s thinking. He places a hand on Bart’s side, pushing his fingertips into the soft flesh as he pushes the last of the brownie into mouth. “I can always spoil you twice as hard at home.”

“Why are you so good at this?”

“At what?” 

“Everything! Everything you say sounds super hot and reassuring. You’re taking this so well.”

“Well, you’re obviously pretty um,  _ moded, _ over this. So as your boyfriend its my job to make it less stressful. I’m really not bothered. I promise. All I know is, you’ve always liked food and I  _ like  _ cooking for you. I love that you enjoy it so much. I think it’s pretty simple.”

As many times as Eduardo says it, Bart just finds it so hard to believe. It’s not because he doesn’t trust Eduardo. It’s just, he’s having such a hard time accepting everything. It’s still seems like a lot to comprehend, not to mention how much weight he’s gained because of it. Yet, Eduardo is fully embracing both. He’s never turned up his nose at Bart’s eating habits or made a negative comment about the changes to his body.

How he got someone so perfect, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that Eduardo is amazing. Bart pushes into his hands and knees, leaning forward to plant a kiss on his boyfriend’s lips. After a moment he pulls back, panting.

“I love you.”

“I know. I love you too.”

It feels as though a weight has been knocked off of his shoulders. Suddenly his body relaxes and all the tension that was building up seems to dissipate.

“Do you want to lie down?” Eduardo asks.

He shrugs. It’s still early. He’s not sleepy. He feels better than he has in weeks.

He looks at Eduardo, and then at the coffee table where he still has brownies waiting for him.

“I want you to spoil me.”

It takes a second, but then Eduardo’s eyes go wide.

“Oh, well then I should probably get the other pan from the kitchen.”

X

They end up in their bedroom, Eduardo leaning up against the headboard with Bart between his legs. They have the TV on some cooking competition, but neither of them is really paying attention to it.

All Bart can focus on is Eduardo. He’s got one hand wrapped around Bart’s stomach, while the other brings brownies to his mouth.

Bart’s lost track of how many he’s eaten at this point, but that familiar full feeling is starting to linger in the pit of his stomach.

“Are you doing okay amado?”

Bart nods. Even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t want to stop. He feels free finally. This is by far the best feeding yet and he plans to show his appreciation by eating as much as possible.

He’s sure Eduardo can feel just how full he is, but he doesn’t say anything. Bart’s trying his best to not get sick and keep his composure downstairs. It’s fairing harder than usual. He’s got his legs spread to accommodate for the growing fullness in his belly…he just didn’t realize he’d gotten even heavier in the last few weeks. The bottom of his stomach and the tip of his hard on are meeting in a way that feels utterly amazing but highly uncomfortable all at the same time. His thighs brushing together isn’t helping. He keeps trying to spread his legs further but they’re too thick, and the spread too much, not to touch a little.

His breath hitches, Eduardo’s hand squeezing a sizable layer of fat in his hand. “You’re squirming a lot and you’re breathing really hard. Do you want to take a break? We’re almost done anyway.”

Bart looks over at the brownies. The first pan is gone, reduced to a pile of crumbs. He’s about half done with the second. Yeah, he’s full and it kind of hurts, and the more he eats, the more his belly sinks into his lap, but he’s still determined to finish.

“N-no. Keep going. I want to finish.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, I just… _ you know,”  _ Bart hesitates. He feels more comfortable but it’s still weird to say out loud. _ “ _ I’m close.”

“Oh, why didn’t you say something? Or just touch yourself? It’s not like anyone said you couldn’t.”

Bart isn’t sure why that thought didn’t occur to him. He has two free hands and a little relief might help him finish everything.

“Go ahead,” Eduardo encourages. “I’ll wait.” 

“No!” He says just a little too quickly. He resets and tries to speak a little calmer. “Keep going with brownies. It’ll help,”

Why his cheeks are burning so badly, Bart doesn’t know. They’ve been dating for years. Eduardo’s seen him at his most vulnerable. He’s even fed him before…Still this is sort of new territory. This is first time they’ve truly embraces the kink for what it is. He’s still getting used to it.

To start, he has to shift the part of his belly that’s intruding into his lap of the way to get a good grip on himself. That’s gonna be hard enough to get used to on its own. Considering how far his middle bulges out these days, he can’t really see what he’s doing, but he supposed he doesn’t really need to. It’s all instinct anyway.

He leans a little deeper into Eduardo’s chest and lets a brownie glide past his lips. His boyfriend’s hand is switching between rubbing soothing circular motions at the top of his belly and straight up palming the softness of his chest. Bart isn’t sure which is hotter. Both are making it hard for him to stay calm. It’s a constant relay of eating, messages and stroking himself, that feels better than he imagined.

It isn’t long before Bart finds himself biting his lip, trying to prolong the experience as much as possible. He hears Eduardo’s soft voice in his ear.  _ “You don’t have to hold back. Finish for me here, so I can get you ready for the next round.” _

He cums in a mixture of toe curling, back arching euphoria, falling back into Eduardo with his chest heaving up and down with heavy, erratic breaths.

“Do you feel better?”

He nods, unable to speak.

“Are you ready for more?”

Eyes closed and body still tingling, Bart opens his mouth and lets Eduardo coax another bite into his mouth. Of all the times for their minds to be on food, it’s when Bart’s a literal mess in his lap.

For a few minutes, he hardly registers the dessert being placed in his mouth. He’s draped lazily on Eduardo’s chest. His legs are practically dead in front of him, and all he can manage to do is to rest his hands on top of his belly, watching them rise and fall with every breath he struggles to take. 

Of all the weird thing he could be into, he still can’t believe it’s this.

“This is the last one,” Eduardo says, pulling him out of his haze. “Finish this, then I’ll clean you up a little.” 

Bart’s moving on autopilot at this point, finishing the last brownie in three slow bites. His stomach feels bloated beyond all reason—a broad, round dome that has his skin stretched so tight, he doesn’t dare try and move. 

Despite how ridiculous he must look, Eduardo still leans in and kisses his cheek. “You did it,” he says, and is make Bart feel strangely proud of the fact that he’s made an absolute pig of himself.

He definitely feels spoiled when Eduardo leaves him lying on the bed, only to return with a warm rag.

“I can do it,” He offers, though he doesn’t really have it in him to sit up or exert energy. It just doesn’t seem fair that his boyfriend should have to clean his cum off the underside of  _ his _ gut. He attempts to push up onto his elbows with a grimace and reach for the rag, but Eduardo merely laughs.

“Relax. You can barely sit up straight,” he says, before poking Bart in the roundest part of his stomach, “Besides, I’m not sure you can even reach under here right now.”

“I’m not  _ that fat yet _ ,” Bart pouts, falling back into the bed.

It’s an ironic statement coming from someone so bloated they can barely move.

“Yet?”

“Well…I wasn’t planning on going on a diet any time soon…unless you wanted me too.”

“Why would I want that? I just fed you two pans of brownies,” he laughs, moving Bart’s stomach up to clean underneath. It’s a little uncomfortable given how packed it is, but he doesn’t complain.

“I know. But I have gained a lot of weight. I just want you to tell me if you don’t like it.”

It’s not like it’s just ten or fifteen pounds. His entire body’s reshaped. There isn’t a spot on him that isn’t softer than when they first met. The stretch marks will probably never go away even if he lost weight. 

“If you like it, I love it,” his boyfriend says, leaning forward and kissing his belly. It tickles just enough to make Bart wriggle underneath him.

Eduardo tosses the rag aside and crawls forward, his hands holding down Bart’s wrists as he looms over him. It’s enough to get Bart excited all over again. “Plus, I like how sensitive your body is now.”

He presses his body into Bart’s, emphasizing the stark contrast between their shapes these days.

“I l-like it too,” he manages to stutter out.

“Are you ready then? Or do you need more time?” 

“I’m ready. I want you inside of me while I’m still full.”

Eduardo laughs. “Given how much you just ate, I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that.”

“I had to finish them.”

“Because they were good or because you were horny?”

“Both? But they were really good. I’ve never eaten two pans of Iris’ brownies in one sitting before.”

Eduardo raises a brow, his lips curling into a smirk. “Is it weird that might be the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me?”

Bart can’t help but laugh, pulling Eduardo in close. If you had told him a year ago, this is what his relationship would be, he wouldn’t have believed it. Now, even after all his panicking before, he doesn’t want to change it for anything. “I think compliments to your cooking might do for you what eating does for me.”

“How about we stop wasting time and test that theory?”

Bart is more than happy to oblige.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
